


A Sacrament Taken Kneeling

by This_is_your_Heichou_speaking



Series: Prurience [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cock Warming, Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 06:02:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16235645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_is_your_Heichou_speaking/pseuds/This_is_your_Heichou_speaking
Summary: The rest of the drive was even more torturous. Harry wanted to shift - the shape of his plug pressing against his insides constantly, but Tom Riddle Sr. held firm, his fingers pressing into the meat of Harry's upper thigh with such strength that he couldn't move even if he'd wanted to. So instead of making matters worse for  himself, Harry tried to distract himself.The were going to watch one of Mr Riddle's favourite operas - The Marriage of Figaro. It was a rather famous classic composed by Mozart, but although Harry didn't know what it was about, he supposed it didn't really matter - he wasn't really going to be doing much watching, anyway.





	A Sacrament Taken Kneeling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [khel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/khel/gifts).



> Unbetaed.

He was flushed, his body thrumming before they'd even started. The entire car ride had been silent and Harry was glad for it - he didn't think he could say anything that made sense at the moment anyway. Mr Riddle seemed completely calm and unconcerned, his shoulder relaxed and his hands folded over his lap. It was almost as if he had nothing untoward planned, but when Harry kept jiggling his knee the man reached over to still it with a firm grasp, and Harry knew his lover was just as excited as him.  
  
Mr Riddle was the one who'd come up with the idea, after all.  
  
The rest of the drive was even more torturous. Harry wanted to shift - the shape of his plug pressing against his insides constantly, but Tom Riddle Sr. held firm, his fingers pressing into the meat of Harry's upper thigh with such strength that he couldn't move even if he'd wanted to. So instead of making matters worse for  himself, Harry tried to distract himself.  
  
The were going to watch one of Mr Riddle's favourite operas - _The Marriage of Figaro_ . It was a rather famous classic composed by Mozart, but although Harry didn't know what it was about, he supposed it didn't really matter - he wasn't really going to be doing much watching, anyway.  
  
The thought made him flush pink again, and Mr Riddle shot him a knowing, smug smirk that made him even more impatient. He wanted this to be be over already, and they'd not even started! How he would manage the next few hours, he didn't know. Especially not if he was already so desperate for touch that he could barely sit still.  
  
The car finally pulled up before the theatre - a tall, old and opulent building. Harry made to step out, but even as he did Mr Riddle didn't let go. He looked back questioningly, and promptly flushed in embarrassment when the man let his gaze drag meaningfully up and down Harry's body. He quickly straightened his shirt and suit jacket, smoothing out the creases in his pants and glancing surreptitiously to see if his _interest_  was showing.  
  
And then the door was opening.  
  
The walk up to the private box seats was torturous. Harry tried to walk normally and not as if he had an erection or a plug up his arse, but it was hard, especially with Mr Riddle's firm arm around his waist. He kept his head down and put more of his weight on his lover than was perhaps acceptable, but the man bore it silently and helped him steady himself as they walked up the staircase towards their seats. He felt jittery as they approached the open door, waiters and other employees waiting to set them up with plenty of food and drinks before leaving silently. They worked efficiently, but to Harry it still seemed like forever before they finally filed out if the door, shutting it behind them. All the while he kept quiet, kept himself as still as possible and his face calm, but Harry had never being good at hiding his emotions. At some point Mr Riddle's hand found its way back to his thigh as he leaned close to his ear.  
  
"You had better not ruin this for me, Harry," he'd whispered, steel in his tone, and yet it had only made Harry more aroused. He wanted nothing more than to get started, to please Mr Riddle and hear the man tell him he was doing _so well_ . He felt like he might cry from impatience as the seats below slowly filled up, as the occasional  acquaintance opened to door just to greet Mr Riddle, as the servers checked back just to make sure they had everything they needed. It took so long, _too_  long, and instead of calming him Mr Riddle's hand on his leg only served to make him burn hotter.  
  
Finally, _finally_ , the lights dimmed, and the chatter died down as the silence held. Harry barely dared breathe, the whole opera house held in a state of absolute stillness before the heavy red curtains finally lifted and bright lights turned on over the stage. It was then that the hand on his leg flexed meaningfully, and Harry slipped down onto his knees.  
  
He unbuttoned and unzipped the trousers quickly, the sound seeming almost incredibly loud to him except that he knew not even Mr Riddle would be able to hear it over the performers on stage. From there it was a quick matter of pulling down the underwear enough that Mr Riddle's cock peeked out, and pushing it down until the whole shape of it hung out into the dark of the private box. He licked his lips at the sight - even though it was too dark to see clearly, he could tell where the outline of Mr Riddle's dick was and feel the shape of it in his hands. The rest his mind filled in for him from the countless times he'd seen the man's cock before.  
  
He leaned closer, his knees widening so he was more comfortable, and licked a long stripe up the underside of the cock. Without meaning to, he moaned a little and wiggled again before bending down again, but then Mr Riddle's hand was in his hair and pulling him up to his face.  
  
"Not another sound out of you Harry, or we'll have to resort to less pleasurable activities." His hand gentled when Harry nodded frantically, and he smiled kindly. "Now then, he whispered, his voice low and deep, "let's try that again, shall we?"  
  
Harry got down to his knees again, his butt resting in his heels as he scooted closer to Mr Riddle's seat, and he once again bent to take the cock into his mouth. He stopped at just the head, his mouth sucking hard and then coming off to lick up the side again. Mr Riddle spread his legs a little more, and Harry grinned to himself when he noticed that the man was getting harder and harder as he showered his attention onto it. Eventually Mr Riddle's dick stood proudly to attention, flushed and hot and glistening in the faint light with Harry's spit.  
  
Now came the real test.  
  
He unbuttoned his jacket and loosened his tie, and then unzipped his own trousers before taking Mr Riddle's cock as deep as it would go. It took him a moment - he couldn't stop swallowing around the thick shape in his mouth - but eventually he settled down so that his throat was relaxed around the man's cock and Harry's own erection was no longer so constricted as to feel painful.  
  
The music was loud beautiful, and a part of Harry couldn't help but wonder at the skill of the singers, but for the most part he could only focus on the fact that his lover's dick was in his mouth, down his throat, just laying there as if it _belonged_  there. The sounds around him seemed to fade with every heartbeat, every half-swallow until he felt like nothing else mattered. The could still feel the sizable plug pressing against the walls of his arse, but it was a secondary concern to the turgid flesh inside his mouth.  
  
His mind was hazy with the smell of Mr Riddle, the taste of him, the weight of him. He felt like he'd been there forever, but although his knees and jaw and thighs ached he'd never felt more content. His life had never felt so simple, so _easy_  before - all he needed to do was sit here with his mouth open, and Mr Riddle would be pleased with him. And wasn't that all he wanted? There was a warm feeling in his chest as he kneeled there that felt like hot chocolate, like sitting before a warm fire, like staying in bed on winter mornings. It grew and spread, it's tendrils reaching further along the branches of Harry's veins until they turned his body into a live-wire. He felt like he was completely attuned to Mr Riddle, sensing even the slightest of movements his lover made like they were his own.  
  
It felt like hours. Eventually there was an interlude and Mr Riddle tugged lightly at his hair again to pull him off. He came back slowly, Mr Riddle's warm hand combing through his hair and grounding him as the noise levels rose and the lights brightened. He tried to stand, but his knees were so weak that Mr Riddle had to help him up to sit next to him. He whispered soft words of praise in his ear and made Harry look into his eyes until he looked focused enough.  
  
"Oh, baby boy," he sighed, almost as if Harry was an endearing pet. He raised his hand to Harry's cheek and rubbed his thumb across swollen lips, frowning faintly at the state of them. Harry parted them to lick and suck at the appendage, and Mr Riddle laughed softly before pulling back to pour a glass of cool water. He held it up and helped Harry sip at it, and then hand-fed him some light sandwiches, petting his hair and face until Harry was positively purring.  
  
"Half-way, sweetheart," he murmured softly into his ear. "We've managed half-way." Harry could barely reply he felt so dazed, but the glow in his chest was so warm and so _good_  that he couldn't help the smile on his lips. He nodded, and Mr Riddle pressed a soft kiss to Harry's forehead. "You're doing so very well, baby boy. I'm so _proud_  of you."  
  
And that was all Harry needed.  
  
When the lights turned down again he needed no encouragement to slip back down onto the floor. The position felt once again awkward to fall into, but this time he adjusted quicker and didn't waste any time in sucking down Mr Riddle's cock. It didn't take as long this time before he found himself back in that comfortable space, the calm state he was in before where all that mattered was Mr Riddle and his cock and the flex of his thighs. Harry didn't need to worry about anything but warming Mr Riddle's cock for him - not about someone finding him like this or what the opera was about or  how long it had been. He didn't need to think about anything, because everything had been taken care of _for_  him, and it was so incredibly freeing that it made Harry dizzy.  
  
Time seemed to pass even slower this time. His throat felt full and sensitive, almost to the point that he _swore_  he could feel the throbbing of Mr Riddle's erection against the inside of his mouth. He hummed softly, the vibrations traveling up from his vocal cords and into Mr Riddle's skin. The man groaned softly, his stomach flexing as he stretched just a little and his warm, large hand descended once again into Harry's curly hair. He didn't grasp it this time, but instead ran his fingers through the tendrils soothingly. Once again Harry found himself slipping, his mind wandering and focusing all at once on the smallest things - things like how Mr Riddle's fingernails scraped against his scalp just _so_ , how he began making almost imperceptibly small thrusts up into Harry's mouth, how the amount of pre-cum that leaked from the slit of his cock increased until the taste was almost constantly in his mouth. Mr Riddle's fingers tightened and loosened periodically, and Harry was so _lost_  in the pleasure that when Mr Riddle actually began _thrusting_  he realised he'd drooled all over his groin.  
  
The sound of his lover's cock moving into his wet, wet mouth was so _loud_  it filled Harry's head even as the music reached a crescendo, his tongue loose and his jaw so sore Harry wondered if he'd even be able to shut his mouth again. Mr Riddle didn't seem to care, but grabbed onto Harry's head with both hands and _fucked_ , using Harry as if he were only a toy, an obedient pet, a _whore_ .  
  
And it made something tight appear in his chest and his stomach. He was nothing but _this_  - just another way for his lover to reach orgasm, a toy whose only purpose was to sit with their mouth open, willing to take anything his master bestowed upon him. He reached his hand down, trying desperately to bring himself off but _no_ , he didn't want it like this, by his own desperate fingers. He didn't want to focus on anything but the cock fucking his mouth, the man holding his hair, the soft pants of pleasure that Harry should not have been able to hear over all the _noise_ -  
  
And then Mr Riddle came in his mouth.  
  
He felt the hands around his face soften, felt them push him off and up into Mr Riddle's lap, and let himself he thoroughly kissed. Mr Riddle laughed when he whined softly, his hands stroking down his back and resting at his but, right over where the plug still rested. "You've been so good to me, sweet boy," he said softly, pulling Harry closer until his face rested on Mr Riddle's neck. He burrowed ever closer, unable to think about anything but how _safe_  he felt, how good he felt to have made Mr Riddle happy.  
  
They left early. Later, Mr Riddle would bend him over the kitchen table and fuck his plug into him until he finally came, but for now all that mattered were the strong, capable arms around him, the tiredness weighing down his limbs and the strong glow in his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday Nen~  
> I hope you like this (#^^#)ゞ


End file.
